Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, Whilst meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.
WILLIAM COWPERBlest be the art that can immortalize,–the art that baffles time’s tyrannic claim to quench it.
More William Cowper Quotes
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Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds, Exhilirate the spirit, and restore The tone of languid nature.
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Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds you so much dread Are big with mercy and shall break, With blessings on your head
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A fool must now and then be right, by chance
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Accomplishments have taken virtue’s place, and wisdom falls before exterior grace.
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The cares of today are seldom those of tomorrow, and when we lie down at night we may safely say to most of our troubles, “Ye have done your worst, and we shall see you no more.”
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Men deal with life as children with their play, Who first misuse, then cast their toys away.
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Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
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Deep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill He treasures up his bright designs,
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Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
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The darkest day, if you live till tomorrow, will have passed away.
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Would I describe a preacher, I would express him simple, grave, sincere; In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain, And plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste,
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And the tear that is wiped with a little address, May be follow’d perhaps by a smile.
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Habits are soon assumed; but when we strive to strip them off, ’tis being flayed alive.
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I am out of humanity’s reach.I must finish my journey alone,Never hear the sweet music of speech;I start at the sound of my own.
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The bird that flutters least is longest on the wing.
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The Cross! There, and there only (though the deist rave, and the atheist, if Earth bears so base a slave); There and there only, is the power to save.
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Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
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This fond attachment to the well-known place Whence first we started into life’s long race.
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I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
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Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another’s pain.
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But still remember, if you mean to please, To press your point with modesty and ease.
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In a fleshly tomb, I am buried above ground.
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There is in souls a sympathy with sounds: And as the mind is pitch’d the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave; Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch’d within us, and the heart replies.
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Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
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Elegant as simplicity, and warm As ecstasy.
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Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.
WILLIAM COWPER